Look Behind My Eyes
by Sordinmyhart
Summary: Entering their seventh year, after defeating Voldemort, Draco and Hermione begin an awkward, almostfriendship. But do the two of them have time to earn eachother's trust while fighting off an even more powerful dark Lord? DHr
1. I We're on the Same Side

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be._

Chapter 1: We're on the Same Side

Hermione's Point of View

Disclaimer: All rights to characters and insignia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros

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Hermione excitedly hugged her parents good-bye before bounding onto the Hogwarts Express. Soon she would be home. She saw Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville had nabbed them a good compartment.

Hermione smiled and gave her redheaded friend a hug. "Ron! How've you been? You're so tall!" she rattled on, happy to see her best friend again.

"Whoa, easy Hermione," said Ron, grinning.

"Don't I get a hug too?" said Harry, faking a pout.

Hermione smiled. "'Course you do," she said, hugging her black-haired friend.

After Hermione had greeted all her other friends in a similarly enthusiastic manner, Ron and Hermione excused themselves to go attend to their Prefect duties. Well, Ron had prefect duties. Hermione had Head Girl duties. Yes, she had spent all of her six years at Hogwarts dreaming of this position, but now, in her seventh year, it didn't seem to matter so much. Of course there was lots more going on. Hermione shuddered involuntarily as she remembered the shocking events of the summer following her sixth year.

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Hermione and Ron entered the Prefects Compartment. The other prefects were already there. The Hufflepuff prefects, Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillon were playing cards. The Ravenclaw prefects, 6th years Tony Markson and Christine Juliard, were throwing candy beans at each other. They stopped and looked guilty when the Head Girl entered. Pansy Parkinson sat sulking in the corner, too good to socialize with the other prefects. Everyone was there right on time. Everyone except a certain platinum blonde…

Hermione and Ron sat down. "It's great to see you all again," said Hermione flashing her perfect white smile. Everyone returned her smile besides Pansy, who offered a cold sneer. Hermione ignored this and continued. "Well your, um, Head Boy (She attempted to pronounce the words without scorn) seems to be late. All you really need to do is patrol the hallways every now and then, and check in with the teachers to make sure everything's okay. You can go sit with your friends, but check in with me or (she coughed) Draco every so often."

Everyone murmured "okay" and shuffled out… Just as the Head Boy shuffled in. _"Well, 'shuffle' isn't exactly the right word for it. Saunter, maybe, or catwalk,"_ Hermione thought to herself as she eyed him. He had grown taller over the summer. He was now a good 3, maybe 4 inches taller than her. _And ever so easy on the eyes…_ Hermione mentally slapped herself. _Where did that come from?_

Malfoy threw Hermione a bored sideways glance as if he had much better things to do with his time than stand in her presence. "Granger," he sighed. "I know I'm attractive, but really, it's rude to stare."

Hermione blushed, but ignored the comment. She realized she _had_ been staring. "Nice of you to show up," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I know," he said, not doing her the honor of eye contact. "I'm just a nice person."

Hermione felt an odd sensation. They were teasing each other, not meanly but like… Like _friends_. Hermione scoffed. As if that could ever happen. Although she decided she would lay off on the sarcastic remarks for a while. After all, the bravery he'd shown this summer deserved some accolade. He had been there, rallying alongside her and Harry and Ron and Lupin and even a couple other ex-Deatheaters as together they toppled the Dark Lord. Who could've foreseen that after Voldemort, the greatest of all dark lords, would fall, only to immediately give way to a new Dark Lord. Known as Lucius Malfoy.

Jerking Hermione out of her thoughts, Ron's voice cut the air, bristling with enmity. "Listen, Malfoy. Get out of here. You're disgusting. I don't even want to breathe same air as you. Go back to your little Deatheater friends"

"Ron!" reprimanded Hermione, turning to scold him so she didn't have to see if the always-indifferent expression on Malfoy's face would change in response to this harsh comment. "Stop that! He stood up for the greater good, even against his own father. Cut him a break."

Ron shot her a wounded look like she had betrayed him. "Fine," he said, hurt, as he stalked out of the compartment, sliding the door shut so hard it bounced halfway open again.

Hermione still didn't want to look at Malfoy, but she couldn't very well stare at his feet since they were the only two in the compartment. She risked a glance, and saw to her relief that he didn't appear to be teary or anything. He looked simply confused.

"Not a good way to start the year with your boyfriend," he commented, sounding disinterested.

"He's not my boyfriend," said Hermione automatically. She and Ron had always been best friends, wavering on the edge of something more. But they'd never pushed that edge.

Malfoy shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Whatever. But just so you know, I don't need any Muh- any goody-two shoes standing up for me."

There was an awkward moment that steamed with a dislike that had lasted 7 years, and was not to be overcome in one morning. They both knew he had almost said Mudblood.

Suddenly, Hermione was mad. "Fine. See if I try to help you again. And you can call me a Mudblood if you want. I could take it when I was 12, and I can take it now."

Cold steely-blue eyes bored into Hermione. "Granger. How do you unceasingly find ways to irritate me? You could _not_ take being insulted when you were 12, and I doubt you can now. You'll probably run crying to the bathrooms like you always do. I would've thought you'd've learned a lesson. Isn't that how you almost got killed by a troll? Hiding in the bathrooms?"

Hermione was shocked, first that he would say mean things, when just earlier they had been getting along pretty well, and second _How did he know the details of my little troll escapade?_

Hermione didn't realize it, but she was shouting. "You're nothing but a pitiful little boy who can't decide what side he's on. That's all you've every been, and that's all you'll ever be!" Hermione was seriously pissed.

"Well all _you'll_ ever be is a silly little girl who can't realize there's more to the world than books and memorizing spells! You're nothing but a colossally annoying pain."

"Children! What on earth is going on in here?" A woman appeared at the doorway they had negligently left open. She was tall, with dark hair and skin. She seemed friendly enough, but also carried an air of authority. "Why, I could hear you two shouting from the front of the train." She noticed the badges on both of their shirts. "And you, the Heads? I would've expected better behavior." She said. This reproach was enough to make Hermione look down guiltily, but Malfoy unflinchingly met the woman's gaze. "Well, I think you two will just have to learn to get along. I wish you two to spend the remainder of the trip in this compartment together."

Hermione moaned internally. Torture. Pure torture.

"By the way, I am Professor Arion Talon. I will be your Defense against the Dark Arts teacher this year. I look forward to seeing you both in my class." She was just turning to leave when she spun promptly back around, inhaling sharply. "Is that… Are you the young Malfoy? Draco?" she asked, seeming to notice Malfoy for the first time.

Malfoy stiffened defensively, and Hermione's heart ached for him. Poor thing. How much hate had he been forced to endure because of his father? "Yes," he said in a challenging way.

But Professor Talon simply said, "Oh yes, I thought I recognized you. I used to work at the Ministry with your father." She then left without another word.

Malfoy gave a big sigh and collapsed onto the seats on one side. "Terrific," he said to the ceiling. "I get to spend the trip with my favorite suck-up."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This isn't exactly a treat for me either, Draco," she said, annoyed.

Malfoy sat up and stared at her. "When did you decide we were on first-name terms, Granger?" he asked, not meanly but certainly not very friendly.

Hermione blushed. "We're not. It was an accident."

"Good," said Malfoy harshly. "Just because we're on the same side now, doesn't mean we need to get all chummy."

The rest of the train ride continued in much the same way, their less than friendly conversations followed by awkward silences.

Author's Note: Well, there goes the first chapter. Review and let me know what you think.


	2. II Rivals

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be._

Chapter 2: Rivals

Draco's Point of View

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Draco sighed, still laying flat on his back staring at the ceiling of their compartment as he had been during his whole voyage with Hermione. Eventually, he got bored, so decided to attempt to make conversation. "So, decided what you want to do once you graduate Hogwarts?" he asked, even glancing in her direction. _Dang_, he thought. _Granger's no dog this year_. Last year, Draco and Blaise had graded all the girls in their year. Deanna Millison, a very hot Ravenclaw who was still Pureblood and sufficiently mean enough to be suitable for a Slytherin, had rated the highest, at A++. Granger had gotten a D+. _Ignoring her impure lineage, I'd say she's moved up to at least a B. _Draco thought.

Indeed, her pretty golden-brown hair was still sort of bushy, but in a nice way. She had split it into 2 low pigtails tied with red and gold ribbons. She was wearing a red sweater and jeans. He moved his gaze quickly back to the ceiling. Granger, too absorbed in a book too notice, looked up. "What?" she asked.

"Your career. Do you know what you want to be once you graduate?" he repeated.

"Oh," said Granger, marking her place and stowing her book under her seat. Draco rolled his eyes at the ceiling. _Was she expecting a long discussion?_

"Well," she began, with the air of someone giving a presentation. "I've thought about becoming a healer, but I'm not quite sure I've the knack with medicine, you know?" She continued without waiting for his input. "Then I thought it would be nice to be a professor at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore never hired graduates until they'd had 4 or 5 years of experience doing something else, and I think McGonagall will probably follow that tradition right?"

Seeing her pause for a breath Draco cut in. "Ever think about working in the Minsitry? You'd be a great assistant Minister, maybe even Minister someday. Or international magical cooperation. They could use an international leader with a brain for a change."

Draco turned his head and saw she was blushing ever so slightly. _Damn. That did sound a little too complimentary. _"I mean, anyone's got to be better than the morons we have in government now, right?" he said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Oh," said Granger, sounding almost disappointed. "Yes of course. So what about you?" she asked.

Draco had already spent a good while pondering this. "well, I used to want to work in the Ministry, but now with my… background and relations, I don't see that becoming a reality. So I kind of… Well I sort of thought about learning wand-making." Draco was shocked with himself. He hadn't even shared this unlikely dream with Vincent and Gregory, (Crabbe and Goyle) so why on earth had he told Granger?

Granger shifted her gaze from the window to him. She revealed her no longer bucktooth smile. "That sounds really interesting."

Draco remembered the day he had first entered Ollivander's Wand Shop. He had been 11, and like all rising first-years, was at Diagon Alley securing the necessary school supplies.

_"Come along Draco, we haven't all day," snapped an intimidating Lucius Malfoy, six years younger, before he had risen to Lord of the Dark Wizards. "Now let's see, I think we've got everything. Oh yes, your wand of course. Ollivander's is just this way."_

_A much younger Draco followed closely in his father's shadow, watching how crowds parted for the older blonde. Draco had been to Diagon Alley before, of course, but he had never been into Ollivander's Wand Shop. _

_"Oh yes. Here we are, Draco. Stand up straight," commanded his father, tapping Draco on the head with his cane. Draco complied, of course. Malfoys obeyed their parents. Malfoys upheld family honor._

_An eccentric old man with white hair flying everywhere emerged from the back of the shop. "Mr.Malfoy! What a pleasure. This would be Draco?" said the old man, bowing slightly._

_"Yes," answered Lucius. "He's starting at Hogwarts this September, and he'll be needing a wand."_

_"Yes of course," said Ollivander. "I must say, he certainly takes after you."_

_Lucius had no reaction to this comment, but Draco stood even straighter. He was pleased to be compared to his father. Because at that age he had wanted nothing more than to be just like his father._

_"Right, then, let's see about his wand." Mr.Ollivander disappeared behind rows of boxes and returned with an armful. "How about Cherry Oak with Dragon Heartstrings, like your mother's. Nice and sturdy, but not too thick."_

_Draco took the wand he was offered, and tried it out. Nothing happened._

_"Alright," said the wand-maker. "What about a longer maple one, with a unicorn hair." Again, no effect._

_Draco tried out another dozen wands, all to no avail. With each failed attempt, Lucius's expression grew more and more controlledly enraged. Finally, Ollivander seemed tired of trying out different ones. Speaking to Lucius, Ollivander said, "Well, he doesn't seem to be taking to any of these. Perhaps… Perhaps one a bit less common." When Lucius didn't respond, he elaborated. "One of my older styles. 13 inches, Silver Oak, pixie wing core."_

_"Absolutely not!" Shouted the senior Malfoy. "How dare you insult Draco and myself like that. I will not have my son using one of those wands."_

_"Mr.Malfoy, those wands have always had wonderful success. If he could just try it out…" At this, Ollivander held out a long, thin silver wand hopefully towards Draco. Draco immediately felt drawn to it, and stretched out a hand, feeling it call to him._

_"Draco!" snapped his father, giving his son a less than loving smack on the neck. "Do not take one of those insulting creations." He then addressed Mr. Ollivander. "I will not put up with this. Draco will have a wand custom-made by someone more reliable." And with that, he had stormed out of the Shop. _

_Draco turned to follow obediently, but hesitated. He turned back around. "I'm… sorry about that." Draco had mumbled to Ollivander._

_Ollivander smiled. "Don't worry about it. I have picky customers all the time. You should know, the reason your father didn't want you to have that wand is that that wand's brother is currently in use by none other than Albus Dumbledore. It has done great things. Too great to be turned up by snobbiness. Take it, I insist."_

_Draco stumbled back. "N-no. Iif my father finds out-"_

_"He won't find out," insisted Ollivander, pushing it insistently at Draco._

_"Draco! Come on," yelled Lucius from outside the shop._

_"Quickly," said Ollivander, shoving the box into Draco's robes. "Go now."_

Draco had never even gotten a chance to say thank you. Of course, he had another wand, the one he was officially registered to, a custom-made 10-inch Black Maple wand with a unicorn hair core. But his secret wand was much, much more powerful. That was the one he used all the time, except for when his father was around.

That was why, a few months ago, when he had been with his fellow Deatheaters on a tower, attempting to murder Albus Dumbledore, not only _wouldn't_ he kill the Headmaster; he _couldn't_ kill the Headmaster. No wand worked correctly against its brother wand. Harry's and the late Dark Lord's had been incompatible, as were Draco's and the late Headmaster's. But that was a secret he would carry with him to his grave.

Ollivander had helped Draco enormously. He was a wonderful man, who hadn't deserved to be murdered by the Deatheaters. Draco had always secretly wanted to be Ollivander's apprentice, and, someday, a great wand-maker himself. Now, the apprentice part wasn't going to happen. But maybe he could still be a wand maker.

"Hey Hermione," said the flame-haired Weasel, bursting into their compartment and interrupting Draco's musings. "Where've you been? Guess what. I caught that Slytherin 6th year Matthias Backard hexing two 4th year Hufflepuffs. I jinxed him, and he is in serious trouble with Professor Spr-" Ron broke off, appearing to notice Draco for the first time.

"Why are you and Malfoy in here together?" Weasley asked Granger, completely ignoring Draco.

"Not by choice, I can assure you," said Draco smoothly, swinging his legs around and sitting up.

Granger sighed and brushed her bangs to the side. "Our new D.A.D.A. teacher, Professor Talon, heard us fighting and sentenced us to the same compartment for the whole trip."

"Ouch," said Ron, his back to Draco. Honestly, it was like Draco wasn't even there. On another day, Draco might have taken this opportunity to hex the boy, but not today. Today he would cut the Gryffindors some slack.

A magically amplified voice came through the train. "We will arrive at Hogwarts in approximately 30 minutes. Students, please change into your robes if you have not already done so."

"Oh. I should go then, Hermione. See you when we get off the train. Ron vanished to return to his compartment. Granger dug through her bag and went to change as well. Since he had the compartment now to himself, Draco pulled the shade on the compartment window. He dug through his own bag.

_Where did I put my robes_? Draco had packed haphazardly at the last minute. After a good five minutes of searching, her found his travel robes. He pulled off his green T-shirt. He was just about to put on a black sweater when he heard the compartment door slide back and saw Granger standing there, dressed in her school robes. _Dang, she was a fast changer._

Granger turned red. "Oh! I, uh…" she stammered.

"No, it's okay," said Draco, gesturing it was okay for her to come in. She did, though she was still blushing heavily. He didn't bother to turn away from her and continued pulling on a black sweater, then pulled his robes on over it.

"So," Draco said, folding his green shirt and tucking it back into his bag. "We'll be there soon."

"Umm… yes," said Granger.

"So… Shall we be enemies again this year, Granger?" asked Draco, the hint of a smile playing across his lips.

"Well," said Granger, sounding flustered. "I suppose…"

"Or, if you like, we could settle for just being…rivals?" proposed Draco.

Hermione flashed him a smile. "Sounds good," she said, extending her hand.

Draco accepted it. _Now here's a moment. A Malfoy, and a Mudblood._

The train arrived in Hogsmeade and Hermione was swept away by her friends. Draco forced his way into the commotion and found Pansy, Blaise, and Gregory. He made his way up to the castle. He enjoyed the Great Feast as always, but though he was now with his friends and housemates, a certain Gryffindor kept appearing in his mind.

Author's Note: Too bad this chapter isn't in Hermione's point of view. Bet you'd like to know what she thought about seeing Draco with his shirt off. Oh well. Let's assume she liked it. Chapter 3, coming soon. Please Review.


	3. III Muffins

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be._

Chapter 3: Muffins

Hermione's Point of View

Note: A lot of Dramione fics include Hermione and Draco sharing a private dormitory for the Heads. Reading through the actual books, specifically the third one, in which Percy is Head Boy, you'll find Percy seems to reside in the Gryffindor dormitory like everyone else. So in my story Hermione and Draco stay in their usual dormitories.

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Hermione woke up early one Saturday to someone relentlessly tapping her shoulder. "All right, all right," she muttered, cracking open one eye. She was being pestered awake not by some_one_ but some_thing_.

A golden origami crane was hovering and pecking her shoulder with its thankfully harmless beak. Hermione grabbed the annoying thing, and it unfolded obediently in her hands. The note read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_I apologize for waking you so early this weekend morning. I am currently _

_unavoidably engaged in matters needing my immediate attention, so I ask that you _

_accompany Mr. Malfoy to Professor Talon's office. You will find Mr. Malfoy _

_practicing on the Quidditch field. While your meeting is by no means urgent, I _

_would encourage promptness._

_Best Wishes,_

_Minerva McGonnagall_

Headmistress 

Hermione crumpled up the note and tossed it into the wastepaper basket. She got up and dressed hastily in jeans and a blue long-sleeved shirt. She brushed her hair into a neat ponytail, then set off to find Malfoy, careful not to wake the other sleeping Gryffindors.

They had completed their second week of school and, wouldn't you know it, Quidditch practice had begun already. She stopped briefly by the Great Hall, wrapping up two muffins and stowing them in her jacket pocket.

She strode out to the Quidditch field. Malfoy was easy to spot, being the only blonde on the team. He was doing all sorts of tricks on his broom attempting to secure the snitch.

The team seemed too involved to notice her, so she pulled out her wand and sent out a stream of blue sparks to get their attention.

The team halted their practice, looking around for the source of the interruption. Hermione waved to Malfoy. He flew down and landed neatly next to her. "Morning Granger," he said. "Just stop by to say hello?"

Hermione snorted. "Hardly. Some of us have better things to do on Saturday mornings. Like sleep." Remembering Professor McGonngall's request for promptness, she hastily continued. "McGonnagall has requested that you and I got meet with Professor Talon."

"Alright," said Malfoy amiably, shouldering his sleek broom and waving good-bye to his team.

Hermione hesitated. "Shouldn't you tell your captain where you're going?" she asked.

Malfoy laughed. "I am the captain. And this year, Gryffindor is so going down." He said.

"Oh," said Hermione, following him across the massive lawn. "Well then."

They passed through lots of twisty hallways, stopping only briefly for Malfoy to stow his broom in a hidden room behind a statue of a fat old witch.

"So you know where Professor Talon's office is?" asked Malfoy as Hermione pointed out the turns they should take.

"Yes," said Hermione. "And so would you if you had read the Head's maps they gave us. Have a muffin," she said, passing him a muffin and keeping one for her.

"Thanks," said Malfoy, biting into his muffin enthusiastically. "I don't get a chance to eat before early morning practice."

"You shouldn't complain. Don't you schedule the practice times?" Hermione pointed out as she ate her muffin neatly.

Malfoy scowled. "Technically, yes, but I made the mistake of choosing that fifth year Rachel Mannings as a chaser this year. She's a great flier, but she is an absolute fiend about practicing. If it were up to her, we'd be practicing twice a day." Malfoy walked another few steps before backtracking to where Hermione had stopped. "This it?" he asked, nodding to a very inconspicuous door that blended perfectly with the stone around it.

"Yup," said Granger. She raised a fist and rapped twice on the stone door.

"Who is it?" inquired the sharp but not unfriendly voice of Professor Talon.

"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. The headmistress sent us to see you," Hermione answered.

The door swung open to reveal Professor Talon, looking tired and grim, standing in the doorway.

"You two had better come in," she said, stepping back to allow them to enter her office. It was spacious and sparsely furnished. The walls were strangely decorated with wanted posters of Dark Wizards. Most had been caught by aurors already. To these Professor Talon had added "CAPTURED" and the date in large red print.

One particularly large one seemed to have the place of honor behind Talon's desk. It showed a sneering Lucius Malfoy who repeatedly cocked his eyebrows at the room's occupants. Underneath it was printed "Public Enemy #1. Reward: 10,000 galleons for capture, 500 galleons for information." It also listed what he was wanted for. Hermione saw Malfoy reading it out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw his face fall.

Talon gestured for them to sit in the comfortable-looking blue chairs facing her desk. She slid into her own chair. She sat facing them, her expression still less than cheerful. "I'm afraid I have some bad news…"

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Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter is sorta short, but I want to tell the "news" from Draco's point of view. Please review!


	4. IV A Murder at Hogwarts

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be._

Chapter 4:

Draco's Point of View

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"I'm afraid I have some bad news…"

Draco tensed, ready for the worst. What would they tell him now? That his father had murdered another of his classmate's parents? That they refused to let him stay here any longer? Were they kicking him out to fend for himself? _But… Wait, then why would Granger be here?_

Draco was prevented from further speculation by Professor Talon. "Last night, one of your former professors was murdered."

_Who? Who?_ thought Draco. _Lockhart? Slughorn? Lupin? Oh God, it's Lupin! The Deatheaters found him!_

"Last night, Severus Snape came out of his coma only to be slain minutes later by three unidentified people, at least one witch," said Talon, grimly but quite calmly.

_Snape… Dead?_ Draco had trouble processing this. _My godfather, who's protected me all my life, regardless of which side I was on… Dead?_

"Ordinarily, students would not be able to view this, but Minerva felt that you two, as the heads, ought to know what to expect this year." As she spoke, the professor turned and rummaged through a cabinet behind her desk. She returned, triumphant, holding a small but intricately decorated stone basin, filled with swirling silver half-vapor, half-gas. "The memory we are about to view belongs to Madame Pomfrey."

Professor Talon leaned forward and, quite suddenly, disappeared into the Pensive. Granger glanced nervously at Draco. "Together?" she asked timidly.

"Together," agreed Draco, taking her hand. He felt slightly foolish as he and Granger leaned over the basing together.

"Ow!" said Draco and Granger simultaneously. They had clonked heads, quite hard, both approaching the basin. Then all of a sudden Draco felt a sensation like diving into a cold pool, and suddenly he and Granger landed unceremoniously on a bed in the hospital wing. Draco immediately released her hand. Maybe too quickly. He hoped he hadn't hurt her feelings.

"Watch closely," said Professor Talon, standing next to the bed he and Granger were sitting on.

It was dark in the infirmary; the only light came from a few candles behind the curtain that separated Madame Pomfrey's room from the rest of the infirmary. They heard a moaning, then the sound of someone clambering laboriously to his feet. Draco looked around, but all the lumps of sleeping students around them were still.

The room became lighter as a very drowsy Madame Pomfrey hustled into the room. She drew back the drapes that gave the occupants of the small long-term room a little privacy.

"Severus! Severus, what is it? Please lay back down," pleaded Madame Pomfrey as Snape, dressed in a black nightgown, ignored her and pushed past her into the main room.

She grabbed Snape's arm and tried again. "Please Severus! You've been unconscious for more than a month. We have to make sure you're alright."

Snape cut her off. "Poppy. I must see Minerva." He flung her arm off and strode towards the door pretty steadily for someone who had only just regained consciousness.

Before he could leave, though, three figures dressed in black hooded robes threw open the door and strode in, one after another. They would've looked almost like Dementors, except that you could hear their footsteps, and they were all about average height for adults.

The one in front pulled a wand out of her robes and pointed it at Snape.

"NO!!!" yelled Draco, involuntarily reaching out her hand.

"Avada Kedavra!" yelled the hooded figure. The voice seemed female, but Draco didn't recognize it.

Madame Pomfrey screamed as the room was illuminated by a flash of green and Snape fell with a thud to the ground, dead. All this screaming and light had woken a couple of the students. "Huh?" said one boy, sleepily surveying the commotion.

"Don't move!" commanded Madame Pomfrey, whipping out her wand.

One of the black figures chuckled. The trio ran back out the room. "Stop!" shouted Madame Pomfrey. She followed them out the open door. But the three of them seemed to have mysteriously vanished.

Madame Pomfrey returned, collapsing next to Snape on the floor. She weakly raised her wand. "Expecto Petronum," she said dully. Nothing happened. She sighed and climbed to her feet. She took a deep breath, then tried again. "Expecto Petronum!" she said again, with more vigor. This time a silver cat appeared, and leapt gracefully out the door. Having accomplished this, Madame Pomfrey returned to the ground.

"Severus," she said, gently shaking him. "Severus!"

The room swirled with gray smoke before fading completely from Draco, Granger, and Professor Talon's view. Draco felt a rising sensation and suddenly the three of them were back in Professor Talon's office, standing around her desk.

Draco felt a dull sense of reality. He was acutely aware of everything, from the sound of Granger's breathing to the cold morning air streaming in through the open window.

"Malfoy?" asked Granger uncertainly. "Are you… alright?"

Draco ran a hand through his blonde hair and didn't answer.

Professor Talon coughed. "Severus Snape was one tricky individual. He played double agent for both the Order of the Pheonix as well as Voldemort's Deatheaters. Each side was suspicious of him, but members of each side believed he was loyal to them. Everyone thought his loyalties would become apparent during the final battle against Voldemort.

"However, when he was found barely alive in a coma at his house, he was found by both a deatheater and a member of the order. Molly Weasley and Bellatrix Lestrange both claim that they were rushing to ask Severus to come join them when they found him unconscious, beaten almost to death. Both sides are accusing the other and it's a miracle that Bellatrix and Molly didn't kill each other when they found him together."

"Hold on," interrupted Granger. "Snape murdered Dumbledore. _He murdered Dumbledore!_ His loyalties arent' –weren't – questionable. He was against us."

"Well, that's what we all thought too," agreed Professor Talon. "But shortly after Albus's death we found evidence that might support the idea that Albus planned his own death, and that his murder by Severus Snape all fit into a bigger plan. But Dumbledore was always so damn secretive that no one knows for sure. Furthermore, Snape died before he could talk to Professor McGonnagall. And since no one can identify his murderers, we can't say if he wanted to hurt or help the Headmistress."

"But isn't that proof that he was murdered by Deatheaters? No one on our side recognized them," Granger argued. _God, that feisty little thing can never pass up a debate._

"Not necessarily," said Talon, her gaze shifting from Granger to Draco. "Actually, aside from you being Head Boy, there's another reason we called you here Draco. Did any of the hooded figures seem familiar?

Draco considered. In the dark, and with such complete covering, the wizards/witches could've been any number of people. But the voice of the woman who had killed Snape definitely seemed unfamiliar. In answer, Draco just shook his head. "What was Professor Snape doing her anyways?" Draco asked. "I thought he was a t St. Mungo's."

"He was," replied Talon. "But the Healers were seeing signs of improvement, and they thought it would be best for him to wake up at Hogwarts."

_Snape… Dead_. The words echoed in Draco's mind. _Father, if you had anything to do with this, well… all the more reason to kill you._

"Well," said Professor Talon. "If you- My goodness Mr. Malfoy, are you all right?"

Both Granger and his professor were looking at him with concern. He realized he had stood up. His fists were clench and he was involuntarily grinding his teeth.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," said Draco, calming down a bit. He sat down, slightly embarrassed, but no blushing. Malfoys never blushed. Odd family trait.

"Well alright then," said Talon after gazing a t Draco for a moment. "you obviously are _not_ fine, but I won't pry into your personal matters. As I was saying, we would prefer you not share the specifics of this matter with your peers. We will officially announce the death of Severus Snape soon, as soon as we've gotten a chance to investigate futher. To think that three murderers could sneak into Hogwarts… But then, you've already proved it possible to smuggle in a whole horde of deatheaters."

Draco almost hung his head in shame, but his fierce pride reminded him to keep his chin up.

"But all that's said and done now," said the Professor, a bit apologetically. "I would urge you two to take your duties seriously, and encourage caution and rationality. You may go now. Please enjoy the remainder you weekend."

Granger and Draco stood up. Draco had his hand on the door when Professor Talon added, "Oh, and if it's not too much to ask, I'd like you two to write a speech to present at breakfast Monday morning. Now that Dumbledore is gone, no one takes warnings from the staff very seriously. I hope that if the students would hear two of their peers, it might carry more influence."

"You want _us_ to announce Snape's death?" asked Granger incredulously.

"Oh no, that's not what I meant. Please don't include that. The Headmistress mere wants you to promote school unity and recommend caution. Good-bye now," Talon said, waving as she pulled out a stack of essays and began grading them.

Draco pushed open the door. As soon as the odd tone door was safely closed behind them he turned to Granger and said, "Can you believe that nutcase wants us to write a speech?"

Granger was staring absently at the paintings as they walked back down the hallways. "Well it makes sense. If McGonnagall gave a speech, no one would take it seriously. And I like Professor Talon."

The corners of Draco's mouth twitched. _Why the hell do I always feel like smiling when I'm with Granger?_ "Well, as much as I'm inclined to dislike anyone who has forced us to occupy the same room, excluding classes, twice now, she does seem like a pretty good teacher."

"Yeah…" said Granger unwittingly. Her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. "Um… I'm not sure what time it is… Do you want to go eat a real breakfast, or do you need to get your broom?"

Draco leaned precariously over the railing of the staircase they'd been descending in order to see a clock 2 floors below. "Uh… Looks like it's just past 7:45. Do you want to, uh, go somewhere and just… um… talk?" asked Draco, aware that he was stuttering like a ditzy little schoolboy. Which he was, technically…

Granger's tone was hurtfully indifferent. "Sure, whatever. I know of a nice little hidden tower room that's just his way," Granger said.

Draco followed her up a flight of stairs, then up two more flights behind a mural of a goblin war. They arrived through a trap door in a small round room with windows on all sides. Draco sat next to Granger, facing, as near as he could tell, northeast.

Draco waited for her to break the silence, but after a few awkward minutes, he realized she wasn't going to. "Knut for you thoughts," he said, facing her with a half-smile, half-smirk.

"Okay," said Granger, holding out her hand.

Draco stared stupidly at her hand for a moment before he got it. Then he laughed. "I'm in my Quidditch robes, Granger. I've got nothing on me."

"Too bad then," she said, facing away from him to continue taking in the scenery.

"Do you accept IOU's?" he asked

"I'll make an exception just this once," said Granger, no longer able to keep a straight face. She passed him a scrap of parchment and a quill.

"_I owe you one (1) knut. Signed,_ Draco Malfoy."

Draco passed the paper back to her. "So. Share your thoughts," he prompted.

"Why is a pineapple called a pineapple when it has nothing to do with pine trees or apples?" Granger offered.

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Not what I was expecting, but that is a good question. I suppose since they grow on trees, like apples, and are covered with spikes, like pine needles, some unimaginative person named them pineapples."

"Yes, that sounds plausible," said Granger, finally relinquishing a smile. She let them lapse into comfortable silence for a few moments before she ventured to another topic. "Hard to believe that Snape's dead," she said tentatively.

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Author's note: Wow, it took me a while to get this chapter to be the way I wanted it. Please review. Oh, and if anyone notices any spelling errors, please share. And does anyone know if the "d" in deatheaters should be capitalized? I could walk ten feet and look it up, but I prefer to see if anyone actually reads my author notes.


	5. V Steely Blue Eyes

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be._

Chapter 5:

Hermione's Point of View

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"Hard to believe Snape's dead, isn't it?" Hermione ventured.

The fun expression on Malfoy's face slowly changed to one of raw, uncovered, grief. Malfoy's steely blue eyes had never seemed so… vulnerable. They weren't hiding anything. And it broke Hermione's heart to see his pain. His eyes darted away, staring numbly out the window.

"I know," Malfoy whispered. Actually whispered. Hermione realized that she had never heard his voice this pure. There was no bravado or sarcasm. And it wasn't so hard to overlook 6 years of torment, enmity, and torture, seeing him before her, so pure. _Maybe this is how religious people go around loving everyone and all that crap. Maybe they can see everyone at their purest._

"Draco… Snape and I have never really been pals, but I truly am sorry. I know you two were really close," Hermione offered weakly.

Malfoy swung his head back to face her. His eyes were definitely tear-free. His face held no expression, and Hermione realized that an indifferent expression is different from no expression at all. "Oh?" he asked, his tone dead. "Like you and your friends haven't wished him dead a hundred times. And again, we're not on first-name terms."

"I'm not going to pretend I ever particularly liked him, and I can't speak for Harry or Ron, but I honestly am grateful for all he's done for me. For all of us. And we are temporarily on first-name terms because I am consoling you. Or at least attempting to," replied Hermione, a little hurt.

"Well newsflash, Granger; I don't need a little know-it-all nerd girl's condolences. I do have real friends," he said, not even pretending that wasn't a direct stab.

"All right then," said Hermione, keeping her voice at a very controlled indoors volume. "Then go talk to those real friends. I'm sure Pansy's eager for a reason to hug you."

Malfoy sighed, and Hermione could see no reason why he didn't get up and leave. But he just sat there. He turned to look at her. And just looked at her. He held her gaze, both of them delving into each other's eyes. It wasn't romantic or anything, Hermione thought. Eventually, after searching her eyes for a good solid minute, Malfoy looked away.

"Granger?"

"What?"

"I'll schedule a meeting with all the prefects tomorrow, and afterwards we can work on out speech together."

"Okay, but -"

"Well then, I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, Malfoy got up and with surprising speed exited the room.

_Well that was really weird. What is his problem?_ Hermione shook her head. _Oh well, some people are just nutcases_. Hermione sat there brooding for a few minutes, then hopped down the trap door and headed towards the Great Hall for some real breakfast.

Upon reaching the Gryffindor table, Hermione found Harry and Ron.

"Oh, hey there Hermione," said Harry, looking up from his _Daily Prophet_. Or actually, Ron's _Daily Prophet_. _I wonder why Ron even bothers subscribing; he never reads it._

"Good morning," Hermione said, sitting down between her two friends and helping herself to some scrambled eggs.

Ron and Harry exchanged awkward glances. "Um… Hermione?" Harry asked timidly.

Hermione sighed. And Gryffindors were supposedly known for their bravery. "Yes?" she said.

"We were, uh, looking for you this morning, so we checked the Marauder's Map and we, well we couldn't help but notice you were alone with Malfoy in a hidden room. Is everything okay? He didn't hex you or anything, did he?" asked Harry, concerned.

Hermione sighed. It was nice to have such caring friends, but she thought their distrust of Malfoy was a little excessive. "No, he didn't hex me. We were just meeting to discuss some Head Boy/ Head Girl issues. That's all. Oh, and Malfoys's going to decide on a time for a prefects' meeting tomorrow, Ron."

Hermione finished her scrambled eggs and, finding herself full for now, got up and left. "I'll see you two later."

Hermione couldn't think of anything to do, so she decided to pursue her default Saturday activity. Hermione headed to the library. Madame Pince, looked up. Her always sour expression didn't change, but she said in a friendly tone, "Oh, good morning Miss Granger. Anything specific today?"

"Oh, not really," said Hermione. "Just browsing. I was going to maybe look for some of those old novels written by Terry Morgan."

Madame Pince gave a smile that seemed awkward from disuse. "He was always one of my favorite authors. His books are in the second aisle from the left," Madame Pince said, pointing to the appropriate shelf.

Hermione went off to search for her newest target. She shook her head. _Madame Pince does have a nice side occasionally. It's a shame everyone's always so mean to her._ Hermione mused as she perused the "M" shelf.

Hermione found the novel by Terry Morgan that she had been searching for, but she also found something else. An Honor, A Challenge by Draco Leviticus Malfoy had been sitting innocently farther up the row from her targeted book. Hermione took both to a table. _Draco Malfoy? He has_ not _written a book. That would require thought. And effort. And a brain._

Hermione opened the book to its publishing page. It was published by Draco Malfoy. In 1968. _That's weird… I guess Draco must actually be Draco II. I wonder if his middle name is Leviticus too_. Hermione flipped the book over to read the summary on the back.

_In an age of corruption, the noble Fymaol family shines as a beacon to the confused wizarding world. However, unknown forces are assassinating the Flymaol children. Devin, only 16, finds himself the last remaining Fymaol child, and therefore the heir to the Fymaol clan. Devin must fight for survival while also taking out a mysterious force that seems intent on bringing chaos to the world._

Hermione raised an eyebrow. _Fymaol? Please. That is so obviously an anagram of Malfoy. Still, I wonder if this book is any good…_

Hermione opened the book. It was a pretty book. It was moderate sized and fairly thick. Its hard covers were decorated with ornate designs and the title was in flowing script. The pages were gold-leafed and there was an attached ribbon bookmark. Hermione began reading the book.

The novel was surprisingly good. Hermione had been expecting thinly veiled propaganda about how superior Malfoys (or Fymaols) were over muggle-borns, but it was actually a story. With an actual plot and everything. Devin realized how privileged he was to come from such a high-class family. But he was also aware of the responsibility that came with it. Hermione was about ¼ into it, and was so deeply absorbed that at first she didn't notice a shadow falling over her.

"Hello there Granger. You truly have nothing better to be doing this Saturday afternoon?"

Hermione looked up, startled. _Is it really afternoon already? Dang, I was so absorbed in that book… _"Hello Malfoy. Are you going to run away from me again, or shall we have a civilized conversation?"

Malfoy pretended to think about it. "I do believe we can have a conversation. Maybe not civilized, but let's take one step at a time," he said, flashing his flawless smile. "So what's today's book?" he asked, craning his neck over the table to try to get a look at what she was reading.

"Nothing, just something new I picked up," said Hermione, trying to pull a different book toward her.

Malfoy circled the table so that he was standing behind her. He was leaning over her, trying to see around the hand she was conveniently resting over the book. He frowned. "Is that…"

_Aww, shit. This looks pretty stalker-ish._

"Is that An Honor, A Challenge?" he asked, giving her a look of disbelief.

"Well, I was in that aisle, and it looked interesting…"

"You would really read that piece of crap?" said Malfoy incredulously.

"Well, I actually thought it was pretty good…"

"It's one of the worst things ever printed," insisted Malfoy, rather passionately. "You don't want to be reading that," with one strong hand he closed the heavy book and lifted it off the table.

"Hey, I wasn't done reading that, Malfoy!"

"Good," he said, striding towards a random shelf, probably with the intention of dumping the book.

"I liked that," Hermione argued.

After successfully ditching the book, Malfoy turned to face Hermione. "The ending is horrible. You… Well, you really shouldn't finish it."

Hermione sat sulking for a moment before her curiosity won. "So are you Draco the second?" she asked.

Malfoy shook his head. "And I'm glad. It's bad enough to share my first name with that creep. His middle name was Leviticus and mine is… not," he finished.

"What _is_ your middle name?" Hermione asked.

"It's… aw, hell, it's Exodus. Isn't that the worst middle name you could possibly imagine?" he said.

Hermione smiled. "Draco Exodus Malfoy. Sounds nice."

Malfoy glanced around quickly. "You're the only one who knows my middle name, so could you not advertise it?"

"I like it. Much better than mine. Can you think of anything more boring that Jane?" asked Hermione.

"Hermione Jane Granger. That's a nice name," said Malfoy.

Hermione snorted. "For a pioneer girl maybe."

"Hey Hermione! We've been looking for you. It's only 2 o'clock. We could still go to Hogsmeade." Hermione's red haired friend rounded a shelf. He eyed Malfoy, but mercifully didn't comment.

"Sure," said Hermione, collecting the Terry Morgan novel she had found. Ron and Malfoy had an uncomfortable staredown.

Hermione was relieved that Malfoy played the gentlemen. "I'll see you at the Prefect's meeting tomorrow, Weasley," said Malfoy, turning and exiting the library.

_What is it about him and last names?_ "Well, let's get going then," said Hermione, walking briskly out of the library after checking her books out. Uncharacteristically, Ron didn't comment about finding her in Malfoy's comment for the second time that day. She had to admit, she had some pretty good friends.

They met Harry at the entrance then proceeded to have an enjoyable time at Hogsmeade. Some people say they get a tingly sensation when someone is watching them. Hermione had no such feeling, but she was most definitely being watched. By several people.

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Authors Note: I'm glad I got that finished before leaving for vacation with no computer access. (I leave tomorrow morning) Draco's ancestor's middle name is Leviticus, while his is Exodus. I'm not sure if anyone's caught on, but those are both biblical books in the Catholic bible as well as the Torah. I didn't really like that chapter… Oh well.


	6. VI Something Unexpected

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be_.

Chapter 6: Something Unexpected

Draco's Point of View

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Draco strode down the hallway, heading away from the library, towards the Slytherin Dungeon. So Granger & Co. was going to Hogsmeade. Maybe he'd go too. _That wouldn't be stalker-ish. I'm perfectly entitled to go to Hogsmeade._

Draco grabbed a black cloak to wear over his muggle clothes as well as a money sack full of galleons. Oh yes. It was nice to be rich. His mom was dead, and since his father (curse that man) was wanted by the Ministry, he was the legal heir of the Malfoy fortune and had inherited everything that his father hadn't ran off with. Not to mention the hefty reward he had been presented by the Ministry as thanks for the part he'd played in Voldemort's defeat.

Draco was just about to leave the Slytherin common room when a familiar slick voice called, "Where are you running off to, Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise and he had the weirdest friendship. "Off to Hogsmeade. Want to come, Zambini?"

"Nothing better to do," said Blaise, running a hand through his chocolate hair in a manner similar to his best friend. "Shall I invite Pansy too?" he asked, already heading over to where Pansy sat with some other girls.

"No, actually, why don't we keep it just the two of us," said Draco.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Well alright then." The two Slytherins exited their dormitory. They arrived in Hogsmeade. The weather was pretty nice, though a wind was making it a tad bit chilly.

"Want to go to Honeyduke's?" suggested Blaise. "Mandy's birthday is coming up, so I'll get her a little something."

Mandy Driandes was Blaise's off-on girlfriend. They had been together for an all-time high of one whole month, ever since the memorable we-won-the-war-even-though-we-now-have-a-new-tyrant-to-deal-with-but-we'll-just-ignore-that-because-we-want-to-have-a-party party. Mandy was a Slytherin 6th year. "Sure, Honeyduke's sounds good," agreed Draco.

The pair walked into Honeyduke's. Blaise bought Mandy (inventively) a heart-shaped box of chocolate, as well as some of her favorite honey coated pecan balls. Draco picked up a rainbow lollipop as a souvenir for Pansy, and a caramel chocolate bar for himself.

Draco broke his chocolate bar in half and shared some with Blaise as the two of them wandered aimlessly around the town. As they did, the passed the golden trio, who were loitering outside the Three Broomsticks, chatting with some Hufflepuffs. Draco grabbed Blaise's arm and pulled him away from them, into a small bookstore where they could easily see the trio through the glass.

"What's your problem?" asked Blaise, jerking his arm free from Draco's as Draco peered through the glass. "Are you mental?"

Draco sighed. "I'm starting to think so," he admitted as he ingested another square of chocolate caramel.

"So, which one is it?" asked Blaise, as he joined his friend pressing his nose against the glass. "Hannah Abbot? I dunno mate… She's alright, I suppose, but you could do way better, and besides, she's kinda soft, even for a Hufflepuff."

Draco shook his head. "Not Hannah? Well, is it Bria? I guess she's pretty cute, but a 5th year is sort of young, don't you think? And besides, I thought she was with that 6th year Gryffindor Colin. Not that you couldn't win her over, because you totally could."

"Blaise!" Draco cut in, interrupting this monologue. "Will you _cut it out_?"

"If you would answer my question," Blaise sulked. Those Slytherins sure knew how to pout.

Draco moaned and rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, but I am only telling you this because we are bet friends, and understand I'm not even sure about it myself." Blaise gestured for Draco to continue. "You probably won't approve, and don't tell anyone, because if Pansy finds out they'll be hell to pay." Blaise nodded. "You know, I think this is crazy. I don't like her. It's just, I don't know…"

"Draco!" It was Blaise's turn to interrupt a rant. "I understand. Will you just spit out her name?"

"Hermione Granger," Draco mumbled quickly before he lost his nerve.

One thing could be said for Blaise. He was eternally cool. His expression barely changed. "My, your taste has changed. I'm not even quite sure how to reply to that. Well, I suppose I'll try to be rational. What do you like about her?"

"I don't know," said Draco. "She isn't bad looking. With those honey brown eyes, and her hair that looks like chocolate with streaks of caramel…"

"Refresh my memory. Are we talking about Hermione or my chocolate?" cut in Blaise.

"Very funny," Draco sneered before continuing. "And she's got a real attitude, and of course she's smart and witty."

"You did not just say witty. Dude, that is such a second year word. But anyways, what do you dislike about her?" said Blaise, sounding quite like Dr. Phil.

"Well, she is so stubbornly loyal to Potter and Weasley, plus she's a little cocky at times, and not confident enough other times. And, well I know the war changed things and all, but the way I was raised, it's just that she… She's, well…"

"A muggleborn?" completed Blaise with a look of understanding.

"Yeah…" Draco mumbled, looking down, ashamed.

"Hey man, it's okay. If it's meant to be, it'll work itself out," said Blaise. Draco was glad he had chosen to confide in Blaise rather than Gregory, who would've teased him eternally.

"You're right. Plus, this probably won't go anywhere. It's just a passing crush because of the whole Head Boy- Head Girl thing."

"Right," said Blaise, not convinced, but still loyal.

"Well, let's go then," said Draco, and the two friends turned to leave the shop. As they did, they pivoted right into a man standing directly behind them. He was average height, but Draco could see his well-defined muscles even beneath the man's loose navy blue robes. The man had a short beard, but was otherwise bald.

"Oh, sorry to startle you," said the man. "I'm Finn Talman, I'm the shopkeeper of this bookshop. I was just coming over to ask if you tow needed help with anything."

The man did not look like Draco's idea of a bookkeeper, and his voice couldn't quite be called friendly. "No, we were just going," said Blaise, finding a hold on his friend's elbow and dragging him out the door.

XXXXXXXXXX

"That Finn guy was weird," said Draco once he and Blaise were safely sipping Butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks.

"Definitely. I didn't hear him come up behind us at all. I wonder how long he was there…" said Blaise absently.

"Well, I think I'll go back to Hogwarts now," said Draco, draining the rest of his mug and standing up.

Blaise winked at a group of Hufflepuff 6th years who all blushed and giggled. "Alright, I'll join you in a couple hours."

As he exited the pub, Draco watched his friend stride over to the girls. "Can I buy you a drink ladies?" No doubt his friend would stay entertained. Blaise's almost subconscious flirting with younger girls was one of the reasons he and Mandy were so off-and-on. Draco shook his head. Zambini lived to tease girls.

Draco made his way up the hill towards the school. Only about 50 feet from the school entrance, he encountered a tight knot of witches and wizards all dressed in navy blue robes. As he passed them, he received a unanimously suspicious group glare. _Strange to see non-staff members this close to the school, what with the tightened security and all. Maybe that group was here to teach the 6__th__ years to apparate, or something._

Draco stopped at the intimidating iron gates to be inspected by Filch. After giving him a quick wave with a stealth detector and asking him if he'd encountered anything suspicious, Draco Malfoy was checked back into Hogwarts and readmitted into the castle.

On returning to the castle, Draco decided to idle away the rest of the Saturday in the company of his fellow Slytherins. Though these first couple weeks had been undeniably awkward, what with everyone missing the presence of the 7th Slytherin in their year. Vincent Crabbe had fought on Voldemort's side of the Final Battle, and had been killed along with his parents. His younger sister, Terri, however, had refused to join Voldemort and was still a 5th year at Hogwarts_. Hmm…_ thought Draco. _I should talk to her some time. We're in the same boat. Though I bet it's harder for her because she isn't legally an adult yet._

Draco had just reached the portrait of the snooty, high-class wizard that guarded the Slytherin Dormitory when it him. _Snape's dead. Dead. Snape is dead_. Draco wanted to just lie down right then and there. But not only would the prompt unwelcome questions, it was also very likely that he would be stepped on by Slytherins departing the dormitory. In the interest of his mental and physical health, Draco decided to break down somewhere more secluded.

He reached the owlery and found its only occupant a 2nd year Ravenclaw boy. As he caught sight of Draco he started, and scurried away quickly. So quickly that he failed to securely attach his letter and parcel to his owl's leg. Draco picked up the letter and parcel, which had fallen to the floor. He was about to reattach them when the name on the envelope caught his eye. _Finn Talman._

_What on earth could that little 12 year-old be sending to that weird bookkeeper?_ Draco wondered. Before Draco could satisfy his curiosity, a very irritated barn owl pecked his finger. Draco swore and the owl took advantage of his lax grip to swoop away with its charges.

Pushing that out of the way, Draco hefted himself up to one of the open windows and perched on a sill, dangling his legs out, exactly as was forbidden. Draco hung his head, allowing his white-blonde hair to obscure his eyes. Snape. His confidant, his friend. His mentor, his protector. His Godfather.

Hell, when Potter's Godfather had died, he had gone absolutely postal. And everyone was comforting and soothing and concerned. No one even knew about Draco's lost, and when people did find out, there would be no comforting, except from perhaps a few select Slytherins. Quite the opposite. Potter thought he had it so bad. No one made snide comments about his late godfather. No one said "'bout time" when they found out about the death of the declared innocent Sirius Black. Potter had had a whole freaking support group and he still when insane.

But Draco would endure his pain by himself. As he always had. When his father would beat him. When his mother would neglect and abuse him. When the (first) Dark Lord himself had given Draco the task of murdering Dumbledore. When he had to fight against his own parents, and he himself destroyed two of Voldemort's four remaining horcruxes. And when he returned to school, he had endured the stares, the glares, the mean notes and comments. Sure Professor McGonnagall had made a speech at the starting banquet, but that didn't stop the taunts and jeers.

Draco slapped his hand. _Stop wallowing in self pity_, he commanded himself. Draco sighed. He jumped down from the window, because he had been up there for at least an hour, and he was getting sleepy. It wouldn't do for him to kill himself falling off a tower after he had worked so hard to stay alive.

Draco didn't feel like faking a smile for his friends quite yet, though, so he decided to rest for a while more in the owlery. Draco dozed off leaning against the tower wall. He mercifully fell into a dreamless slumber.

At about 6:30 the next morning, a certain 7th year Gryffindor notorious for early rising entered the owlery to mail a letter. She sent the owl off and was about to leave when she noticed the slumped blonde boy. She walked over to make sure he was just asleep and not dead. Securing this she turned to leave, but for some unknown reason turned back to look closer at the sleeping Head Boy.

He looked peaceful, more peaceful than he ever did during his waking hours. The ever-present worry line on his forehead was absent. His breathing was even and tranquil. The Head Girl was not known for spontaneous rash actions; quite the opposite. But something must've been different because that morning the Head Girl threw rationality into the wind and leaned down, her face inches from the unconscious Draco's.

She closed her eyes and all was still for a moment. Then, ever so gently she pressed her lips onto his. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, depending on the personal opinions and wants of specific individuals, the previously sleeping platinum blonde chose that moment to return to the conscious world.

"Bloody hell Granger!" Draco practically shouted as he gave her a hard shove and knocked her over backwards. She hit the stone floor with a thud.

Draco's still sleep-clouded brain struggled to make the gears turn. "Were you… _kissing_ me?" he demanded of the heap of a girl in front of him. He said it with the tone that suggested that to him, a kiss from her was as despicable as a kick. _What the hell was that? Here I had just decided _not _to like her… But anyways, what was she_ doing?!?

Draco was annoyed to find his heart beating quickly and his breath fast.

Hermione pushed herself up from the ground at looked at him with an expression that suggested almost… fear? Was the mudblood _afraid_ of him? Sure he had proved his aptness as a wizard when he had destroyed two horcruxes, defeated several Deatheaters, and helped corner the (first) Dark Lord. But for god's sake, he wouldn't hurt a _girl_, even if she was annoying and loud.

However, Draco did nothing to ease her anxieties. "Well?" he demanded even more harshly, definitely shouting this time.

"N-no," stammered the usually quite eloquent Head Girl. "I just came up here to m-mail my letter and I saw someone over in the corner and I just b-bent down to see who it was," she finished, rushing with a definitely nervous tone.

Draco scowled at her. Bull. She had kissed him and they both knew it. "Look Granger, you can't just go around snogging whoever you want. If I wake up with you on me again, I seriously think I might hurt you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't sleep in the Owlery!" retorted Granger angrily, some of her embarrassment leaving to be replaced by matching dislike.

Draco dropped his eyes and muttered, "I bet Potter didn't sleep well either the night after Sirius died.

With his peripheral vision Draco saw her hard expression melt away. "I'm… I'm s-sorry," she said and spun to leave.

"Granger!" Draco called after her.

Granger turned, seemingly hesitantly, to face him again. She was practically flinching. _Maybe I shouldn't've yelled at her,_ he thought guiltily. "We'll have a prefect meeting today at 2. Tell Weasley and the Hufflepuffs. I'll tell the others." And with those parting words, Draco got the hell away from the owlery before his stupid heart exploded from his chest.

Passing a mirror, Draco decided he didn't look to ruffled and could proceed directly to breakfast. Well, after a quick combing of his hair. In the Great Hall he informed the Ravenclaw prefects as well as Pansy of their afternoon meeting. He sat unusually quiet as he ate his pancakes. _What was that Granger? Why'd you do that?_

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Author's Note: Surprising eh? I haven't been getting much feedback, but I'd like some help here. Am I moving too fast? Don't worry, they won't be madly in love tomorrow, or anything that sudden. Love the input. And rest assured, the mysterious book written by the first Draco Malfoy will pop up again.


	7. VII A Meeting

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be._

Chapter 7: A Meeting

Hermione's Point of View

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As soon as Malfoy had pushed past her and left the owlery, Hermione took off to get away from the owlery. She thought about sitting in a room behind a tapestry for a while, but upon pulling it back, she found it already occupied by two fifth years. They seemed annoyed at the intrusion and she hurriedly left them to continue their activities of choice.

Hermione sighed. _I might as well get to breakfast. I'll have to eat eventually. _After checking that the blush on her cheeks had finally died down, she went to the Great Hall. She found the Hufflepuff prefects without too much difficulty. Then she went to sit by Ginny and Ron. "Hey Ron, we've got a prefect meeting at 2."

Ron and Harry exchanged glances. "But Hermione, I've got…"

"Ronald!" said Hermione angrily. "We have discussed this. You are a prefect! I don't care if you have Quidditch practice. It's only one practice, and we don't usually have meetings on Sundays."

"S-sorry, I'll be there," said Ron, glancing fearfully at Hermione. "Sorry Harry," he added.

"Don't worry about it," said Harry. "It's just one practice. We don't have our first game for a couple more weeks."

Hermione mentally rolled her eyes. Heaven forbid anything should get in the way of Quidditch. Hermione blushed at the thought of what had happened earlier that morning. Malfoy's harsh shouts rang in her ears. _Everyone's always saying, "loosen up Hermione" and "come on, just be spontaneous once and a while." Hmmph, if that's the result I think I was better off before_.

Hermione managed to be embarrassed and sulky at the same time. Still, she couldn't help feeling like a tramp for making out with one of the hottest boys in the school while he was vulnerable and grieving.

After finishing their breakfast, Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided to work on some of the homework that had already set in only two weeks into the year. It was NEWT year, and it seemed the teachers were making it their joint mission to never give the 7th years a night off. The trio trooped back up to the Gryffindor tower. Hermione had finished most of her homework, and completed the remaining Charms essay and Potions reading quickly.

"Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Mmmm?"

"Sorry, but is the incantation for the gripping charm-"

This had to be the twentieth question Harry and Ron had asked about the gripping and heating charms. "Look," sad Hermione, annoyed. "Just include these main points." Hermione ripped off a piece of spare parchment and jotted down a few points.

"Thanks Hermione," said Ron sheepishly taking the paper.

"Today's Hermione Homework Help session is over," Ginny declared, clambering through the portrait hole. "Hermione and I are going outside."

Hermione followed Ginny obediently out to sit in one of the pretty courtyards. They sat on a stone bench and watched some first years light piles of dead leaves on fire.

"They really shouldn't be doing that," Hermione said, and rose to go tell them off.

"Don't, Hermione," said Ginny taking her arm. "No one's going to get hurt. Let them have a little fun."

"Alright," conceded Hermione, sitting back down.

"Sooo…" prompted Ginny. Hermione gave a blank look. "Spill! You haven't been staring at Ron nearly as much as you usually do." Hermione gave a disapproving snort. "Come off it, you know you stare at him a lot. Though I can't possibly comprehend why… But anyways, what gives? Found a new guy to admire?"

Hermione stared at her black leather Mary Jane's absently. "Not really, I guess it's just… Since the Final War it seems like all I can see is people's faults. And I think Ron will always be my friend. My best friend, but still just a friend."

Ginny paused after this very concise, mature statement. "Nuh-uh, I think you found someone else."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly Ginny, I'm just not as Ron-crazy these days."

"Fine, fine. But whenever you do feel like telling me, I'm here to listen. Now, moving on to more interesting topics, is Harry not even cuter this year?"

Hermione smiled involuntarily. _That's Ginny_.

Hermione and Ginny had a long chat then had a late lunch. Hermione glanced at Dean Thomas's watch, then gave a little start. "Ginny, I have to go! I'm going to be late for the prefect meeting." Hermione dashed out the doors of the castle. Hermione reached the edge of the lake just as the big Hogwarts clock struck two.

Hermione sat down next to Ron at the typical prefect meeting place, a clump of beach trees next to the lake. The Head Boy was known for many things, but punctuality was not one of them. The prefect made small talk while they waited for him to arrive. Hermione listened to the Ravenclaw prefect's conversation.

"Yeah, Terri's been acting pretty strangely lately," Christine said rather confidentially to Tony, though not bothering to lower her voice.

"Maybe she's just stressed. After all, her whole family's been killed and she has her creepy old aunt for a guardian," said Tony rather disinterestedly.

"I guess so," said Christine. "I just hope she gets herself together before Quidditch season starts. Jack is turning out to be a really tough captain this year, and he says if she can't get her act together, he might replace her."

Hermione rolled her eyes. It seemed that in this world, all paths of discussion led ultimately to Quidditch. _Terri Crabbe… Crabbe's little sister. I wonder…_

The chatter gradually died off as Malfoy walked leisurely towards them. _Only six minutes late. Must be a record for him._

The blonde boy, or really young man, sat facing the prefects. His gaze swept over them all, but he completely avoided Hermione's eye. Just being in his presence again brought color to her cheeks.

"Listen, I don't know how seriously you all take being prefects, but we really need you all this year. You all know that it's dangerous these days what with," Mafloy paused for a half a second, "What with the Deatheaters and other Dark Wizards at large. But the danger may be closer than you think. I need you all to help this year. Please stay alert and be cautious. Look out for your houses and do all you can." Malfoy paused. "That's all I have to say about that," he finished. "Head Girl? Anything to add?"

The group of prefects all turned so they were now in a sort of circle around Hermione.

Hermione cringed. Granger was one thing, but being addressed as Head Girl? _Malfoy must really hate me_. "You've said it nicely, Malfoy. In other news, the Headmistress asked me to remind you to use your disciplinary powers responsibly. Hermione's gaze lingered coincidentally on Pansy. Please do not give people detention simply because you don't like them." Pansy scowled.

"Also, we're drawing up the schedule for patrolling the corridors after curfew. This schedule will be for first semester. We'll change again after Christmas. Hermione found the list of names and days. She tapped it with her wand, and the names rearranged themselves randomly. Hermione read off the list:

"Sunday: Ron and Hannah

Monday: Ernie and Pansy

Tuesday: Hermione and Draco

Wednesday: Ron and Christine

Thursday: Tony and Ernie

Friday: Draco and Hermione

Saturday: Hannah and Christine"

Hermione stared at her list in disbelief. "I'm with him… twice? That's very unlikely and coincidental," she murmured.

Ron gave her a sympathetic look. "Too bad. At least it's only for one semester."

Hermione snuck a glance at Malfoy. He rolled his eyes and scowled. Hermione glanced at the sky. _Heavens above, why are you punishing me so?_

Hermione rambled on about a couple of other things before dismissing the prefects. "Coming Hermione?" asked Ron.

"No. I have to write a speech with my new patrol buddy," said Hermione less than enthusiastically. "I'll see you later."

Everyone else left, and Hermione realized she could no longer reasonably ignore Malfoy. "So we're supposed to promote inter-house unity. Do you write speeches?"

"No, Granger I don't. Why don't we just do a skit or use sock puppets?" he said with a smile. Hermione was pleased and surprised that Malfoy was joking with her like usual.

"While, I suppose we better get working since we have to speak tomorrow," said Hermione.

Malfoy pulled out a quill and parchment and stretched out on the grass. "Well, let's get writing."

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Author's Note: And there goes chapter 7! Just a little advertising, everyone go check out my new story, In the Snake Hole. Also Dramione, but in a different way. Please, I've been dying in the desert for weeks with no water. Think of that as a metaphor. I've been staggering on with this fic with very few reviews. I'd like to know: if you think my characters are acting realistically, any guesses at my hidden secret plot, what you want to happen, if my chapters are too long/short, and in general, anything. So please review!


	8. IIX A Speech

Look Behind My Eyes

_It was impossible. It was forbidden. It was meant to be._

Chapter 8: A Speech

Draco's Point of View

Disclaimer: Do I really have to write anything? Isn't just putting the word "disclaimer" good enough?

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For an hour and a half, Draco and Hermione wrote. And revised. And wrote more.

Granger seemed surprised that Draco could form coherent sentences, and downright shocked to discover that he possessed some literary prowess.

Draco came up with the basic ideas for the speech, and Granger organized them, filled in the gaps, and made them a bit more flowery. Granger was also given the task of writing their finished speech, after a comparison of handwriting revealed hers to be more legible.

Draco read over his fellow speechwriter's shoulder as she neatly recorded what they'd come up with so far.

"Hold on," Draco said, interrupting the serene silence. "There will be no use of semi-colons in out speech."

"And why not?" Granger demanded. "They're perfectly accepted punctuation marks."

"First off, do I even need to point out what a grammar-obsessed dork you are? Second, you're writing down what I say, and I do _not_ talk in semi-colons."

"Fine," said Granger, in a pouty sort of way. She neatly scratched out the offending punctuation.

Finally Granger, whose secret identity Draco suspected was a literary Gestapo, was satisfied with their finished product. She read it all aloud. Their speech read about 7 minutes. "Well, I think that's pretty good," Draco said, stretching his cramped leg muscles as he stood.

"Yes, I think Professor Talon will be pleased," said Granger, always the teacher's pet.

"Really Granger, have you ever had a teacher you didn't like?" he asked, his face shifting to a mocking sneer.

Granger ignored the intended sarcasm. "Well, I never was too wild about Quirrel, and for good reason as it turned out. And when Hagrid started teaching, some of his lessons were a little dangerous -"

"Well how 'bout it," Draco interjected. "I thought all the Gryffindors loved Hagrid."

"I do! He's a great friend. I'm just saying he's not the most conventional teacher. And Moody. Or rather, Crouch posing as Moody. I thought his teaching style was sort of crude. Oh, and of course Sna-" Granger broke off suddenly and glanced apologetically and almost fearfully at Draco.

Draco stared at the ground as the numbness he had felt since Snape's death came forward and became the dull painful throbbing of loss. Draco wouldn't claim that Snape was a saint. Far from it. He had played up his loyalties on both sides for dual protection. But he had also protected Draco his entire life, and led his house well, albeit somewhat immorally. Draco left his musings about Snape and returned to the present.

"It's okay," said Draco softly. "I can't go around killing everyone who mentions his name," he said. He was too proud to actually say it, but he hoped his message was understood. _I'm sorry for yelling at you when you were just trying to help._

Granger got to her feet as well, and the pair stood in awkward silence for a moment. "Well," said Granger. "Guess I'll go now."

She was a few steps away when Draco could no longer defy his curiosity. "Why'd you kiss me Granger?" he called out.

Granger didn't stop or turn around. "Spontaneity," she called gallingly over her shoulder as she pranced away.

Draco shook his head. _Being with that girl makes my head hurt._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Draco woke up early Monday morning, but Granger woke up even earlier. He found her waiting for him right outside the Great Hall.

"Oh there you are," she said as if waking up later than 4 was odd. She pulled their rolled-up speech from inside her robes. "I underlined your parts in green and mine in red," she said bossily.

"Inventive," said Draco dryly.

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning in confusion.

"Green, Slytherin, red, Gryffindor," Draco said in that annoying Duh! voice.

Granger reddened. "I didn't even think of that…" she trailed off, muttering to herself. Draco smirked. Seeing Granger confused was amusing. "Anyways, I thought we should give our speech at about 7:20.

"Sounds good. Let's eat first," Draco suggested, and ditched Granger to go sit at the Slytherin table. The Great Hall was sparsely inhabited. Its patrons consisted mostly of students who needed to do some early morning test cramming or homework, freaks like Granger who always woke up early, and members of the Charms club, which chose to meet in the morning for unfathomable reasons.

No other Slytherin 7th years were up this morning, so Draco sat with Mandy. (Blaise's 6th year girlfriend, for those who have forgotten.) Mandy eagerly shared all the gossip she had picked up in the inaugural weeks. Draco was a bit of a gossip himself, and he shared rumors of Hannah Abbot hitting on Blaise.

Mandy told him about the curiosity surrounding Terri Crabbe as they ate; Draco, pancakes, Mandy, oatmeal. "Yeah, so apparently there're all these rumors going around claiming that Terri was with Voldemort just like the rest of her family, and that she's here at Hogwarts to murder McGonnagall and Harry."

"Oh yes, Mandy," said Draco sarcastically. "That sounds likely. And I'm really still a Deatheater too, right?"

"Oh, drop it Drake," said Mandy, using the nickname he despised. "All your friends know that you're really on our side. Who cares if half the school hates you? We know the truth and that's what matters."

"Thanks for the pep talk," said Draco, draining his orange juice. "Better go find Granger now. And my name is Draco, not Drake" he said, leaving Mandy to swap gossip with a couple of other 6th years who had joined them.

Granger was already standing by the winged podium usually reserved for the Headmistress's speeches. She was glancing at it almost fearfully as if she was afraid the Headmistress's podium would attack a student.

Before Draco could make any witty remarks about this, Professor McGonnagall appeared. "Oh good, you're already here," she said, before immediately addressing the rest of the school. "Good morning students. I don't mean to alarm you, but as you all know, we are living in perilous times. I urge you to exercise caution; the danger might be closer than you think." The students swiveled in their seats to face their headmistress.

Granger stepped on Draco's foot. "See? Professor McGonnagall just used a semi-colon!" Granger hissed into his ear.

"I've asked Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger to speak to you about it." Professor McGonnagall turned and ushered the two of them up to the podium. Granger looked ready to collapse from nerves, so Draco took the speech out of her hands and smoothed it onto the podium.

"Good morning," Draco began, his voice smooth as always. "You all know that it's a dangerous time. We've been living in danger all our lives, particularly since the Dark Lord came back three years ago."—there were a few mutterings about Draco's reference to the 'dark lord'—"Things are once again dismal, but we must be strong. A separated school is easy to defeat. United, they don't stand a chance."

Granger seemed to find her voice, and she continued their speech. "Sure, we all know there's been a rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin for centuries"—there was much mumbling among the two named tables—"But come on, really. Can't you set aside a petty school rivalry when lives are at stake? Honestly, how can any of you—especially you 7th years who will graduate soon— expect to win this battle when we can't even stand together at school."

A few of the more moral Gryffindors had the decency to look ashamed, but the majority of the Gryffindors and almost all the Slytherins were looking at their Head Girl like she had just suggested they all eat Flobberworms for lunch.

"Yes. Come on, Slytherins." Draco stopped to take a breath. _I can't believe I'm saying this…_ "We've changed. I hope that everyone here is really and truly on our side, regardless of your family. And Slytherins, while haughtiness tends to be associated with our House, no one said it's required. So will you all grow up and behave?"

There was a shocked silence as the entire Slytherin table held their breath and stared up at its most influential member. Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to smile and say, "just kidding!" Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Granger looking at their speech nervously. So far, they had completely deviated, and said nothing that was really written down.

"How can you say that?!? _You_ let the deatheaters in who killed Dumbledore. _Your_ father murdered half the wizards on our side!"

Draco felt the familiar feeling like being sick to his stomach as this accusation rang out across the hall. It wouldn't be the first, but it was probably the harshest and most public. The entire school swiveled in their seats to find this bold challenger.

Draco gaped, his mouth literally falling open. _I don't believe it…_

Next to him, Draco heard Granger gasp.

The school swiveled back to see how Draco would react. But he didn't. He didn't hang his head, no that would be far too un-Malfoy-ish. But there was no mistaking the raw hurt on his face. Of all people, he never expected such an accusation to come from…

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Author's Note- And, there's chapter 8! Waaah! Don't hurt me because I ended with a cliffhanger. Muahahaha! Yes, I'm and evil author. So anyways, I finally got chapter 8 posted. Sorry it took so long, way too many vacations on my part. Everyone review and tell me who you think the mystery challenger was. I might have a prize for anyone who guesses correctly.


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